


13 Ways of Looking at a Black Widow

by gayori



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Overwatch - Freeform, Talon Lena "Tracer" Oxton, Team Talon (Overwatch)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-05-25 11:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14975876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayori/pseuds/gayori
Summary: After a Talon mission transported her to King's Row, Tracer returns to visit Widowmaker. She assigns herself a mission as well; she wants to assassinate her one obstacle, Gerard Lacroix.





	1. Voyance

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU, Tracer is a member of the Talon organization.

Lena knocked on the double doors. With their glass windows and her anxious, shaking hand, she was worried she'd break one of the panes. The nerve-wracking seconds of it remaining closed continued as she tapped her feet, enclosed in white cleats.  
The home's windows were similar to that of Amélie's ancestral château. In the corner of her eye, a red light flashed, all glossy in her peripheral vision like bokeh. In a flash, the double-door opened. She winced.  
"Lena!"  
Amélie was smiling and twisting the ring on her right hand. Lips curved, smooth, mouth closed nearly all the way. She could be walking a runway with a quadrillion-dollar handbag, dancing to a crowd of thousands, married to the richest man in the world. So why was she here?

"What are you doing here?"  
Lena giggled. "Just adventuring, I guess. I really..."  
She looked past the woman's flowing hair to the portrait behind it. The painting of her and her husband was framed in a gleaming white case. Gerard Lacroix was looking down at her and smiling from the canvas. Lena exhaled sharply at the look of it, then focused again on Amélie. She didn't need to seem him in that moment.  
"I really wanted to see you."  
She pulled down the sleeve of her jacket. Amélie eyed the British flag stitched on her shoulder, where the curtain of her collar peaked open to reveal the fuzzy material lining underneath.  
"How was London?" She asked.  
"It was okay." Lena figured. "It's all lovey-dovey out there, you know?"  
She nodded. "I understand. Do come in."  
Amélie led her down the hallway, past the painting, over luxury rugs and past vintage doorways with seemingly diamond knobs. She stopped by the house's study. It was empty of Gerard.  
The walk had felt like forever to Lena, but as she looked behind her, the entrance weren't far away at all. She could still see Amélie's designer handbag, presumably a gift from her husband, hanging on the hook. They continued into a grand bedroom; Amélie gestured for her to sit on the chaise, while she sat on the corner of her bed.  
"Is everything alright with you, chérie?"  
Lena fiddled her fingers. "Of course. I mean, the trip to London was all for good reason. It just hit pretty close to home for me." She said. "We lost the objective."  
Amélie bit her lip, then pulled out a glass from the armoire beside her, followed by a bottle of a deep red liquid.  
"Would you like a glass?" She offered.  
"Who bought it?"  
"Gerard." She set the glass down. "I won't make you drink it..."  
"No, it's alright, love." Lena assured. "Perhaps some tea?"  
"Earl Grey, right?"  
"Mhm!"  
As Amélie left the room, she darted out of her seat and slowly put a hand over the night table's knob. Past the Bordeaux wines and light-bodied glasses was a weapon. The Widow's kiss.  
She closed it when footsteps began approaching. Lena beamed at the sight of Amélie, who was holding two mugs in her hands.  
"Cheers?" She held hers out.  
Lena obliged as the front doors opened.  
"Cheers!"  
Gerard Lacroix had arrived.

* * *

The two heroines returned to the living room.  
"Good evening, Amélie." Gerard said as he entered.  
Lena glanced at the darkening sky behind him; the sun was setting, a fiery shade of orange that made it look apocalyptic. She had hardly realized time had flown by to quickly. She tapped her chronal accelerator.  
He was holding several envelopes in his hand. As he shuffled through them one by one, he handed one off to his wife.  
"I believe this is for you," he said.  
Amélie skimmed over the name and location written on the letter. It was important, that was a given. Lena quickly made eye contact with her, and she pointed her chin towards the stairs. She though Amélie would make an excuse before heading to the balcony, but she simply started up the steps. Lena remained glued to her seat as Gerard sifted through the rest of the mail, his back to her.  
She stood up. Her chair squeaked.  
"Agent Oxton." He began. "We may both be agents, but in no way does that make us allies."  
"That is for sure." She responded, purely a reflex, while walking towards the stairs.  
"Is that all you have to say?"  
"Why wouldn't it be?" Her hand was on the handrail.  
"Ah. I only expected a difference answer. 'Are you shore, love? Aren't we best chaps?'" He mocked.  
She grinned. "But then I'd be lying, wouldn't I?"  
One foot on a stair, she continued. The wind from the open balcony immediately blew her overgrown pixie cut all around. Amélie faced the sky, so the first thing Lena saw was her royal violet ponytail rippling in the breeze. She held her mug of tea by the tips of her fingers. Below her, an old woman slept into her tightly folded arms on a wooden bench.  
She handed the envelope to Lena.  
Second Lieutenant Petra - 6/21/2078  
An Overwatch agent. Of course, he didn't exist. It was created to hide the fact that the two were only connected to Overwatch through Talon's battle against it. If he knew they were agents, Gerard would be a widower, but that wasn't according to Lena's plans.  
She tore open the paper to reveal a sleek letter. The letters sent to her were rarely hand-written, so when the said paper was, she was unable to recognize the writing.  
"Amélie?" Lena called.  
"Yes?" She responded.  
"Who the hell is Olivia Colomar?"  
Amélie blinked. "Let me see that." She skimmed it, her eyebrows high and arched. "Volskaya is onto her. Sombra would never even pick up a pen."  
It was true. The glow in Lena's chest should've been receiving a call from the Talon hacker informing her of what was written on that page. She peeked at it again, hoping the letter would say where her mission was going to be. She saw that it was in Jordan.  
"Petra," she read aloud. "How appropriate."


	2. Complot

Lena and her partner traveled down the stairs once again, where Gerard was in his study. He pulled off his reading glasses at the sight of them. Amélie cleared her throat and stepped forward.  
"Agent Oxton and I are going on a walk." She placed a hand on his cheek and smiled. "Nous reviendrons, mon amour!"  
As they left, they entered the nearby park. Dark and empty, she worried not about who would see them. Talon technology was nothing special that year. She started a call and her ring projected an image in red of a woman grinning at them. Lena could see the tattoo on her arm as she raised her wrist higher. Cauchemar.  
"Olivia." Amélie said.  
"Amélie." She replied, hardly making eye contact. "Where is that, Paris?"  
"Not important right now."  
"Pfft, good one. ¿Qué onda?" Olivia tapped her chin. "Oh, right, you don't speak Spanish. It means-"  
"What's up?" Amélie sang in a squeaky, high voice. "You've told me. If you could just shut your mouth for one second, and maybe get some new material while you're at it, that would be très bon." She leaned in closer to the screen. "That means very good."  
"Ugh." Olivia groaned. "Can we please just focus on the task at hand?"  
"Since when do you care?"  
"Since I realized if I don't get this call over with I'll be stuck hearing your voice for eternity. You're in France? We'll send an airship if you can make it to Monaco. I wish our headquarters was in Colmar instead, though it should be called Colomar. You know why."  
Lena leaned towards the screen. "Why Monaco?"  
She simply laughed. "You don't know where a Talon council member operates? Help me out here, Lacroix. Should I tell Maximilien?"  
Amélie sighed. "The council's time is precious. You wouldn't want to waste it with your pathetic whining."  
"Fine." Olivia grumbled, blushing a tiny bit. She met their eyes again and rubbed her temples. "I'll meet you at the chokepoint, ¿aprobado?"  
Lena looked at her accomplice, then back again. "Uh, capicse."  
Olivia tapped her screen, and the light disappeared from Amélie's ring.  
"God, I hate her." She said, making a fist of her ringed hand. Lena placed hers over of it.  
"Hey." She whispered. "It'll be fine."  
"I know." Amélie said, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. "I hope."  
She got up on her feet, as did Lena, and began walking past the trees. They barely cast a shadow as it was so far into the night. As they arrived once again at the French doors, Amélie spoke at long last as she turned the silver handle.  
"We'll take the train in the morning," she concluded, then hesitated. "I have a guest bedroom in the house..."  
Lena nodded slowly. "Thanks, lovely."  
She then felt fingers lacing through hers, all smooth with their french manicure and glossy topcoat. Amélie only let go to open the double-doors.


	3. Balade

Upon arriving at the train terminal, Amélie assured Lena, "Gerard knows. I told him before you woke up."  
"What'd you tell him?"  
"I said an artifact was stolen from the Oceanographic Museum of Monaco. If he takes another train and sees us, he'll have no suspicions."  
Lena nodded and stepped onto their ride. She took the least-torn seat and placed her faux Sherpa-lined jacket on the artificial leather. A gash through it revealed some of the stuffing underneath.  
"It's not exactly a first-class trolley," she admitted, running her fingers over the wall next to her. The beige paint was peeling.  
Amélie waa readjusting the sunset painting hanging behind her, obviously not a painting but on printer paper. She could tell it had been running low on yellow ink, making the magenta hues more red and the orange shades look like candy apples. Simple colour theory, really.  
She looked out the window. "My apologies," she said, "amoureux."  
Lena smiled a little at that.  
"I should probably give Olivia a ring." She peered over her shoulder for what she would refer to as 'the loo'.  
Amélie understood and quickly tapped the nearby trolley employee on the shoulder.  
"Excusez-moi," she said. "Pourrais-tu me montrer aux toilettes? " She opened her purse and pulled out a tube of lipstick, gripping it between her fingers.  
They quickly agreed, pointing to the other end of the train. She followed and disappeared off the cart. Lena fiddled with her fingers as she still sat in the booth, waiting.  
Someone new slipped into the booth.  
"Been here all along," Olivia teased as she sat down. "Did you miss me?"  
Lena blinked. "Blimey."  
"I still don't know what that means."  
"How in bloody hell did you get here?"  
She rolled her eyes. "They wouldn't accept pesos. I flew right by them."  
"Sombra-"  
"Call me Olivia." She interjected. "Anyway, your girlfriend is here."  
Amélie began down the train cart, only to appear a bit stunned. "Whatever are you doing here?" She demanded.  
Olivia grinned. "Helping your asses! You need me. You know it."  
"Big mouth, big target." The huntress said. "You're going to get us all killed."  
"But who'd want to kill a beautiful Mexican princess like me?"  
She put on another layer of her lipstick. "I know someone."  
"You don't know me."  
"And why would I want to, bitch?"  
"Looks like somebody's mad!"  
"I don't get mad, I get even." Amélie barked, assuming it would shut Olivia up. Instead, it was the ceasing of the train's movement that kept her quiet.


End file.
